


Significant Other

by yelancc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, after the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yelancc/pseuds/yelancc
Summary: Harry begins to know the dangerous world of soulmates because of his job as an Auror, and now the only clue he has is Draco.This is a hp world having soulmates, obviously, their world maps appended after the war, and the scenes between Harry and Draco is amazing!A translation of 【哈德】Significant Other by AzovSea.This is a translated work, the original one is in Chinese. Thanks AzovSea(无人驻地) for the authorization~
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AzovSea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzovSea/gifts).
  * A translation of [【哈德】Significant Other](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539300) by [AzovSea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzovSea/pseuds/AzovSea). 



> This is a translated work, the original one is in Chinese. Thanks AzovSea(无人驻地) for the authorization~  
> 如果你是中文读者，在随缘可以直接找到“天作之合”中文版哦~

****Chapter 1** ** ****Homologous****

Harry Potter took a full 2 hours’ nap on the first day of hell, and only after quite a while of dizzying did he realize that it was his muggle neighbour knocking on the door instead of a clapper banging on his temple. Oh, right, he remembered, he had promised to lend his book to his neighbour this afternoon.

Harry bowed his head and stared at his palmprint, of which the intricate lines were fuzzed with thin sweat, feeling like a thousand ghosts had perched on his body resting. He thought of the dream which had stuck him till now, the dream of Draco standing among the fire while the flame licking the edge of his black robe and the roaring conflagration falling from the sky and rising from the earth, trapping him within a cage made of blazes. Harry could even still sense the pungent smell of burning lingering when he woke up.

He shook his head and got out of bed to open the door for his muggle neighbour, however, before he could reach the door, the door had already opened itself by his will. He didn’t pay much attention to it, because there was only one thing occupying his mind right then: he should stop thinking about a long-lost schoolmate. At least it won’t be Draco who came into his sight when he opened the front door.

** 1\.  **

2:11 am April 2003, six days and 44 hours after the third wizarding attack of the month, a week after the lockdown on the top floor of St. Mungo's.

“Just in time,” Edward said triumphantly, glancing down at his newly bought muggle Omega watch. “The Auror Department ordered us to be here by 3 o’clock and we are doing quite well, if not counting the time difference between Norway and London. I hope that will shut down the mouths of those officials you have mentioned.”

“You can never tell.”Draco raised his hands to fix the loopholes on the pitch-black dust coat. They had just finished their last mission, and a portkey was given by the director before he could refresh himself. The coat was split by a former target with a shuttle of magic swords. “We won’t even get a hot cup of tea from the ministry if they regard this person as more important, no matter how many headaches he had caused.”

Edward hums, hands in pockets, looking up at the pale dome light on the first floor at St. Mungo's. No therapist was on duty at the time and all the incandescent lamps were turned off, except one was still working, which was left by the man in charge. It is embedded into the ceiling, casting a dim light spot onto the ground. Draco and Edward were standing under the light, could barely see each other clearly.

The Aurors had cast more than a dozen camouflage spells on the exterior of St Mungo's. The dim light can’t be seen by people standing as near as at the entrance. It’s unremarkable like a reflection of a rear mirror.

“Privileged, hum?” Edward asked, raising his eyebrows and showing contempt as an underclass. Draco’s eyelids twitched. Those words reminded him of a schoolmate untimely.

“Why else do you think Scott sent me, a native, here?” Draco agreed. “To get used to the musty smell of Britain?”

“Pun!” Edward grinned. Draco, one of the privileged people of his early days, nodded nonchalantly. Anyway, he had already been away from home for more than a year, though he was constantly being called for annoying business trips, his life as an employee is reasonably complacent. Pretending to be a proletarian? A piece of cake!

During their small talks, Edward raised his noes and suggested him to look back. A female therapist with brown hair is approaching with a Lumos. She walked towards the lamp, making the dim light spot a little too crowded, and met them.

“Joan.” She shook hands with them. Her dark circles are thick and her eyes are slightly wider. Draco guessed that she is trying to remember their faces in the terrible light of St Mungo's.

“Clit.” Edward shook hands with her and smiles.

“Special agent.” Now it’s Draco’s turn.

Joan has no doubt they used fake names. She has been told that everything that had happened today would be obliviated. “Alright, then, some ministry officials sent me to take you to the top floor.” She said after a deep breath.

So that means there will be only the three of them tonight. Edward and Draco looked at each other, shocked, indeed, by the laziness of the ministry. Draco shrugged as if to say, ‘Told you so. Local culture.’

They entered the two-door lift with brass carvings and directly up to the unlighted attic in silence.

** 2\.  **

“Sorry, I thought you were from Crete Island, because of the name of your institution. I am so sorry.” Joan apologized stiffly. Draco concludes that the source of her nervousness is probably not him or Edward, however, two mafia-like special agents with dark outfits only help to aggravate the strain on her nerves.

“A lot of people mistake, but that is exactly what we want, right? Let others think we are from Crete Island, instead of some institution called Crete.” Edward gentled his voice to soothing comfort.

“You have a German accent?” Joan asked.

“Crete is located in Switzerland. I live there most of the year.” A harmless lie.

“Are you from London? Your British accent is perfect.” Joan changed the subject to Draco.

Draco smiled, “Oh, our English teacher is an old resident here.” Draco was telling the truth. He just couldn't help.

Edward walked in front of Draco, condemning him continuously with the corner of his eyes, and Draco never started the topics--Edward knew Draco’s words can choke people to death sometimes. If take humanitarian into consideration, Draco should keep silent.

There was not a single lamp left on the top floor and it was void black around them. Draco and Edward pulled out their wands and murmured Lumos. What they saw is a 2 meters tall majestic iron gate, reflecting hard and cold metallic sheen under the Lumos, hindering any visitor who intends to pass the entrance. The light from their wands reached a few meters behind the gate and more darkness started to gnaw at the mass of light, keeping up the pressure on them. It was required to walk with their wands holding up to get farther into the corridor.

Draco and Edward looked at each other again, changing the weariness because of the early morning work into professionalism. Joan took out a large set of keys from her pocket. The keys dangling against each other. She found the right one and tried to aim it at the keyhole, but failed two times, and succeeded at the third time.

Pushing open the iron gate, Draco moved to the other side of Joan and join them. Joan gave him a grateful look.

“Who is the target of the Aurors’ application for assistance?” Edward started with the case.

“Oh, yes, he is in the room at the end of the corridor.” Her voice is dry.

“Actually, we prefer his name.”

Joan looked horrified by their questions, and Draco was sure that she wasn’t worried about the safety of them, but the patient was keeping her on the edge. Maybe that’s why those officials didn’t come. It was because of fear. “I have signed a confidentiality agreement not to reveal his name.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. The last you-know-who has been dead for quite a while. But Edward warned him not to spray his venom by his eye expression.

“When did it start?” Edward asked.

“Two days ago,” Joan replied quickly, obviously has been preparing to speak of her misfortune for a long time. “He is an Auror, of a sort with a reputation, and he has been asked to investigate the first two wizard’s murder cases.”

“Anything weird happened two days ago?” Draco continued.

“Let me think…He lives in a muggle-wizarding community. There was a muggle come to visit him, and when he was picking up a book, a page cut the muggle's hand off.” Joan said.

“The point is?”

“The page flew out by itself and was folded into knives, especially sharp ones, and cut off the muggle’s left hand.” She gave a look of fear and sympathy as a therapist, clasping her hands to ease the tension.

“He was an Auror. He pulled out his wand and cast a healing spell on the muggle, the basic one.”

“Did he cure the muggle successfully?” Edward asked knowingly.

Joan frowned and answered quietly, “The muggle grew out seven fingers.”

** 3\.  **

“Typical behavior of a Wanderer.” Edward drew the conclusion. His tone dropped from soothing to serious.

“What?” Joan asked blankly.

“Soulmates, those who have marks, will go into puberty and start to find their mates. The timing is up to the individual.” Edward explained briefly and took a pure white wand out of his coat. The bracelets on Draco’s wrists buzzed as they walked past the therapist and shield her behind them.

“Entering puberty or the death of their soulmates will drive them into magical riots, and they are hard to back in control. Clit call them Wanderers. They need professional treatment.” Edward said, already reached the end of the corridor.

“And we are professional.” Draco grinned.

Draco tucked up his hawthorn wand and made a snap by his right hand. With a tick, all the lamps on the ceiling are turned on, from the top of their heads and deep down to the iron gate. Draco yawned and rubbed his left eye, feeling the world was much brighter, deciding this is a reasonable amount of light during working.

“I know you can’t stop showing off for even a second.” Edward laughed.

“Since they made me bracelets, wouldn’t it be a pity not to?”Draco crooked his lips.

Joan started talking about something such as being discovered, restrained, and insanely, making Draco remind of Myrtle. They look at the room: no number, no doorplate, plain wooden door with white paint.

The only thing special was the orange banners floating and rolling in front of the door, writing ‘DANGER’ and ‘KEEP DISTANCE’, which were common at a crime scene, giving them an illusion that the room remains as it was when the murder took place, though it has been sealed off.

Draco was breathing steadily, hoping blood not be spread everywhere, for the sake of doing dry cleaning is a hell of trouble.

“Joan, could you stay farther?” This is the first time Draco spoke to the female therapist tonight, who pattered her heels back to the lift like finally have an amnesty.

“Since the irrelevant one is gone, tell us your deduction, Draco,” Edward said.

“Far from good. Our patient’s reputation must be respectable and it would be too overwhelmed for the public to know. The ministry sent us in the wee hours to kick the ball perhaps.”

“Get to the point.”

Draco ignored him and lift his eyes, the line of sight seems to diffuse into the room, or he is just staring at the air and looking at his old days. “Besides, I have a good habit to read the last edition of Daily Prophet, though pressed for time. It directly said who was in charge of investigating the first two wizard’s murder cases. Indeed, it’s a bit rude to describe him as having a sort of reputation for Miss Joan.”

“Please, Draco, give me some clue.”

Draco sighed exaggeratedly, as though he had never met such a stupid gnome. “Use your brain! Who do you know best amongst those most famous wizards in England?”

Edward scowled as he rapped his middle and index finger on his chin. “Um…Harry…”

“Malfoy?! What are you doing here?” Before Edward could finish his words, Ron Weasley, the captain Auror, interrupted, who had arrived at the top of St Mungo's in the middle of the night, staring at Draco. Joan slapped him on the back of his head with surprising strength, warning him to keep his voice down.

“So, this is the answer.” Draco sneered and then turned to face the door of the ward.


	2. homologous（2）

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 (4/4)

****Chapter2 homologous（2）** **

**1.**

Harry Potter--the boy who lived, the chief Auror, the darling of the front page, and the target of Draco’s business trip. Edward politely expressed his surprise, actually, sort of on a level of ‘oh, I knew this guy!’. Joan was almost scurrying off like a frightened rat. Draco wrinkled his nose, being slightly discontented about the man’s identity, and he wasn’t sure if he could stand--

“Malfoy?! Seriously? Are the ministries insane?” Ron was agitated as though he were trying to stop a murder.

“Draco?” Edward needed a further explanation, obviously.

“Conflicts at school.” Draco rolled his eyes.

Edward nodded. “I can even guess why he hates you. Half is because of your former identity as a death eater, and the other half is because you were a jerk.” Edward spoke of death eater in the same way as he said cranberry. In fact, most of the members of Crete dealt with their business in the shadow throughout the year, basically isolated from the outside world, having little interest in either side of those conflicts. You might call them insensitive, but that is how Crete keep absolute justice. Draco loves Crete.

Ron is still muttering bad things about Crete and fulfilling his loyalty as Harry Potter’s best friend, wanting to protect him from any potential threats, including medical help from professionals. Considering the patient’s safety and Ron might kill his best friend by accident, Draco decided to be kind and merciful once.

“Okay, Weasley, please stop your unilateral doubtfulness and wrangle first, I believe Miss Joan is already annoyed.”Draco lift his left palm and posed a gesture of ceasefire. “You should notice a colleague is standing next to me if you haven’t got any eye problems and he will take over most of our conversations. On the other hand, in case you forgot, it is almost 3 am. I would rather prefer having a nice sleep after a whole day’s work instead of torturing you.”

“If you are the kind of person who works till the wee hours and is still in the mood yelling and screaming, do please vent your energy against a wall. A cup of coffee is more appealing than working overtime in front of you.” Draco said expressionlessly.

“Now, if you can understand, we will get the job done quickly and I will go back to sleep. ‘Long live your friendship with Harry Potter’ and never see each other again. Is it great?” Draco’s expression was perfectly controlled and there was not a trace of disgust disclosed. His objectiveness and earnestness even persuaded Weasley, who turned totally red. At least he shut up.

“You…you look a little different.” That is the only sentence Ron thought of.

Draco was sure that those words contained positive adjective such as ‘mature’ originally, but Weasley's genes did not allow him to say them to a Malfoy, anyway, Draco didn’t intend to dig in.

Being satisfied with Draco’s unfailing poison tone, Edward went first to the ward and waved his wand. The orange banner flicked automatically to the door frame, twisting around each other and getting out of the way. “Well, since there is no other question, let’s start working.”

While Edward is opening the door, the expressionless face on Draco when he was talking to Ron broke, as a pebble fell into a lake made of his eyes. He couldn’t stop frowning and his heartbeat accelerated, however, he managed to be professional. His mission is to protect a Soulmate whose magic is out of control, and he won’t have other useless behaviors.

The accident occurred the second Draco approached the door.

All the orange banners flew straight at Draco, transforming themselves into the shape of giant monstrous serpents. Their heads with blood-red poisonous fangs were floating in front of Draco’s chest to prevent him from moving closer.

Ron shouted. “You see! I told you he was up to something!”

“Mr.Weasley, ” Edward stopped Ron and seemed to be more worried than him. “This is more serious than you thought. Those banners were set up to prevent Mr.Potter from escaping, which means they were made specifically for his magic only. No one should trigger the alarm theoretically, but Harry Potter himself.”

“But why?” Ron looked stunned.

Edward stared at Draco's pale face, and for the first time tonight, he looked flustered. "Draco, you know what this means."

Nonsense. Draco tried to retort Edward sharply, but he was too preoccupied with panic to respond. He has been working as a specialist for too long to not understand: soulmates have the homologous magic root. Their magic has the same quality and similar form, which is more indestructible and immutable than blood magic. The homology of the magic is the most common way to identify a pair of soulmates other than touching each others’ marks.

After he has passed his puberty, which nearly killed him, and has put himself into an isolated situation, after he has been getting used to his doom to die alone, someone suddenly tells him that he has found his soulmate, who is the great hero of the wizarding world and the embodiment of justice, and the perfect match and significant other for Draco?

Merlin is a terrible chess player, but he can't be expected to submit to a fate so easily.

Before Draco could recover from his shock, Edward made a decision. “You stay here first and we'll talk about it later. Maybe with Harry Potter, together.”

Then he closed the door.

The orange-red serpents were still there. Their scales blazing, and Draco clenched his fist and looked down at the tangled magical banners, who were ready to attack.

"You better hope you're wrong."

The snake hisses.

**2.**

Two weeks ago, when Harry received the two Muggle conflict cases in charge of the Auror Department, he was fully prepared. Ron, as his assistant, complained to Hermione repeatedly about being given some high-profile cases. How embarrassed they would be in the newspapers if it is not settled!

What surprised Harry was the cause of these two cases.

"Soulmate?" Harry asked.

"It refers to people with marks on their bodies. Two people whose marks are the same are soulmates." Ron replied.

"Sounds like a fairy tale."

"Man, you must be kidding." Ron shuddered literally.

“When one of the soulmates goes into puberty and can’t find the other, it’s highly possible to kill someone else or even themselves. There’s not a bit of fun to encounter magic riots, especially when they are from someone as powerful as an Obscurus.”

Harry said lamely, “Now it’s a thriller.”

“Like I said,” Ron said, picking up a biscuit from the table. “Most soulmates never see each other throughout their lives, but all of them go into puberty. Just try to put yourself in their shoes, it’s a mutual disaster for them to die because of someone they have never met.”

“And that person should be their true love. ” Harry sighed, but not surprised. Love is the most rational insanity, regardless of everything, let alone destroy each other. He was one of those souls at risk, and he had no way of telling Ron about it. But after all his kin has died, it is so exhilarating to find a partner connected to his magic that he would not be afraid to love him at all costs.

But the magic riot was too violent and sudden. Harry felt guilty for the Muggle and hoped that the Ministry had already healed his neighbors properly.

He was resettled into a room on the top floor of St Mungo's, however, the attendant medical staff seemed overwhelmed throughout the treatment. Harry reasoned that it was because of the spillover of his own magic power, and before the door was closed, he apologized quietly to the staff sincerely.

The room was a closed one with air holes but has been redecorated for fear that he would break the glasses. The walls and floors were thickly sponged to avoid sharp edges. Harry, dressed in a blue-and-white gown, lay directly on the floor in the middle of the room, with his hands folded behind his head.

Harry spent the first two days alone.

Harry did not know the first guy he had seen. It was a tall man with short flaxen hair and ankle boots in a dark windbreaker. He turned the handle of the door and came in for half a step. Then he stopped and looked back as if he were talking to someone. It seemed like there were at least two people come together.

“You stay here, and we will talk about this later, perhaps with Harry Potter.” The man said. Then he closed the door and came in alone.

Harry was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room when the man approached and sat down to his left. Harry smiled and held out his hand: “Hello, Harry Potter, thank Goodness you are the first living person I've seen in a long time.”

“Edward Palmer,” Edward shook his hand, “normally, people may not be able to bear the pressure of your magic spillover.”

“And you are?”

“From Crete. Did the Auror Department tell you anything about it before they gave you the case?” Edward asked.

Harry nodded. The Auror Department did give him a brief account of the institution before they presented him with the two cases, indicating that if he judged the situation to be out of control, the Aurors could go to Crete for help. Now it seems like the Ministry is in a real mess.

But he didn't know about Crete because of this mission. When he found his soul mark on the third day, the agency's phone number was always on his mind and in his memos.

“That would be great, it saves a lot of trouble since you have already known we are in charge of dealing with soulmates who are in magic riots.” Edward smiled, taking out a ballpoint pen and a questionnaire. “Now, let's get the picture before we solve the problem.”

** 3. **

“What’s the pattern of your mark?”

“Flame,” Harry answered.

“Flame?” Edward asked again, frowning.

“Yes,” Harry doesn’t know where the strangeness lands, is it the uncommonness of his mark? “I can roll up my sleeve if you want to have a look. It’s on my forearm.”

“No, don’t bother.” Edward refused. “The next question, let me see. Well, you have finished all of the questionnaires. And, if I may ask, what would you think of moving to Crete for further medical treatment?”

“Will it be a lifelong treatment?” Harry is kind of scared. He doesn't want to be stuck in a hospital for the rest of his life.

“Of course not. It would be up to a year, including convalescence. You can leave Crete and back to life and work after that.” Edward said.

“Thanks. I’ll think of it. By the way, ” Harry looked around, “did you hear something cracked?”

Edward smiled stiffly, “Being honest, I have enough evidence to believe that the walls are cracking.”

“What? ” Harry asked loudly, in disbelief.

“Well, I invoked my defenses to keep your power spilling over, in another word, our magics are against each other. I'm afraid this room won't last long.” Edward said helplessly.

“So have you two finished yet? ” A strange male voice chimed in, haughty, and articulate.

Alright, maybe not that strange to Harry, though.

“Malfoy?”

“I can see the cracks are still expanding outside.”

“Malfoy,” Harry confirmed.

“I'm afraid the roof will fall in before you finish.”

“Draco Malfoy!”

Draco drew up his wandering eyes and gathered them to his toes. He sighed, resigned, and replied, “Potter.”

** 4. **

Draco had changed a lot since the war, but not so much that Harry could tell. Draco is wearing a long, black windbreaker, the same as Edward, and the style of his short hair was the same as it had been in the fifth year. The white-blond color is shining starkly in the pale light. The last time when Harry had seen Draco during the trail, he carried a look of fear and unsureness, however, now there is something inscrutable.

“We're actually in the final stages, aren't we, Mr. Potter?……Potter?” Edward's voice came vaguely into Harry's mind, and he jerked his head back at Edward with such force that he was suspected of fanning.

Edward looked doubtful, “Well, shall I take it for granted that you will go to Crete?”

“Why is Malfoy here?”

Edward looked even more strange and sinister. “Ask him, man! And I am wondering, too! Draco?”

“I made an accommodation with the gatekeeper, those serpents, saying that either of you could easily destroy the room and that if they didn't want to die, they'd better let me in and have a try.” Draco sat cross-legged opposite Harry so that his back stiffened, and Harry wondered, half to himself, would he be arrested for trying so hard to touch Draco? He doesn't know the answer, but...his magic was telling Harry it was the right thing to do——perhaps it was time to become a Muggle.

Edward frowned, wishing he could kill a fly with his brow. “You know it's against the rule. In case our magic collides, it wouldn’t take two minutes to ruin this place, unless those serpents are right, which he is indeed your……”

What else is going on between Draco and me? Harry wanted to ask, but Draco took the lead. "Yes, I made a bet with the magical banners that if this place hadn't collapsed and Potter's magic hadn't crushed me into a pie, then they win."

Again, what is a magical banner? Harry bewildered.

And it was Edward's turn to sigh. "You lunatic."

So the three of them might have been crushed to death by the falling roofs, but thanks to Draco's correct judgment, he and Draco had an unexpected magical reaction, a good one, of course, and they are safe. Harry strove through his logic and rebuked Draco again, "You lunatic."

Draco raised his eyebrows, “I thought a soulmate in puberty is the lunatic one?”

“Did you almost get killed by your soulmate too?” Harry demanded.

“Probably more than a year ago? I was drunk lying in the middle of a road and my hand was run over by a car. The family almost hit the guardrail, but they quickly got out to check if they had killed me. Because of my magic, perhaps, their car burst its fuel tank a dozen meters away and caught fire.” Said Draco, wearily.

Harry swallowed hard.

“Briefly, given that we've all been persecuted by our lunatic soulmates, Potter, maybe we can reach an agreement in Crete.” Draco got to his feet and turned to Harry as he walked toward the door.

“I haven't decided yet.” Harry retorted. But Draco turned his head slowly and curved his mouth, occupying a commanding position. He seemed to have caught his lie long ago but was clever and benevolent enough not to reveal it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on it …………

**Chapter 4 Snow Mountain**

A letter from Harry to Ron and Hermione, locked in the third drawer of Hermione's oak bookshelves.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there are any mistakes in the article!


End file.
